


In My Dreams (I'll Meet You There)

by flipflop_diva



Category: Captain America (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cunnilingus, Dream Sex, Dreams, Dreams vs. Reality, Established Relationship, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Pre-Relationship, Prophetic Dreams, Saving the World, Set During Avengers Canon, Time Travel, Time Turner (Harry Potter), Vaginal Fingering, Visions in dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:41:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22438894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: Harry is the one who finds the time turner. It looks just like the one Hermione once had, back when she was a kid, except this one has a crack through the center and a weird yellow glow seems to be emanating from it.But that isn't even the start of the weirdness.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Steve Rogers
Comments: 11
Kudos: 137
Collections: Past Imperfect Future Unknown 2019





	In My Dreams (I'll Meet You There)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Entwinedlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwinedlove/gifts).



> Inspired by the prompt _Character Time Travels When They Sleep_.

Harry is the one who finds the time turner. It looks just like the one Hermione once had, back when she was a kid, except this one has a crack through the center and a weird yellow glow seems to be emanating from it.

It’s buried at the bottom of one of the many boxes stuffed in a backroom of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes that have been sitting there for years and years, until George finally worked up the courage to look through them, with the help of Harry, Hermione and Ron.

George looks at the broken time turner sadly. “I tried to fix it,” he says, and the pain of a loss is still evident in his voice. He says no more, but they all understand just who he was trying to save.

Harry drops it into the rubbish pile, but when no one is looking, Hermione reaches out and slips it into the pocket of her robe. She’s not sure why really. She doesn’t have a fondness for broken items nor a need to keep souvenirs, but this token of her past seems to be calling to her. Maybe it’s because of how much good they once did with her time turner, before she had to return it.

She takes it out when she gets home that night and places it on the table beside her bed. It’s the last thing she sees before she falls asleep.

\--

_She is standing in the middle of a New York street. Skyscrapers rise into the air all around her. The world is a cacophony of noise. But it’s not the sirens and the honks and the chatter of normal. People are screaming, running, crying._

_She looks up. Creatures she does not recognize are everywhere. Flying through the air. Leaping off the sides of buildings._

_Her wand is clutched in her hand, but she is not scared. She is calm, confident._

_She hears someone call her name, and she turns around, a smile spreading across her face as she seems a man in a red and blue suit racing toward her. A cap covers most of his head, and a shield is held in his hands in such a way that it covers the lower part of his face, but his eyes are kind while also determined._

_“They’re everywhere,” he says to her when he gets closer. He voice comes out almost like a pant, as though he has been working hard._

_As he pauses, one of the alien creatures dives toward them. They both duck, almost as one, and the man bats the alien away with his shield, sending it flying._

_They stand back up._

_Hermione raises her wand. “We can handle them,” she says, and her voice is steady. “Just get the rest of the team to get all the civilians out of the way.”_

\--

Hermione blinks awake, to the feeling of soft covers around her and the quiet hum of Muggles going about their lives on the street below her flat. She feels a little winded, as though she has spent all night fighting off alien creatures. Which is ridiculous. Of all the creatures she has learned about since getting on the Hogwarts Express when she was eleven, aliens coming down from a portal over New York City is not one of them.

She sits up and swings her legs out of bed, standing up to head to the kitchen.

She really could use a bit of tea.

\--

_She is on a rooftop, floors and floors and floors above the bustling streets of New York City. She stands by the edge, holding on to a railing, looking down at the Muggles who look no bigger than ants at this height._

_She lifts her head and turns to the man standing beside her, so close their shoulders are touching. She realizes his hand is on hers, both of them wrapped around the railing._

_He no longer has the cap on his head nor does he have on the red and blue suit. His blond hair is tousled from the breeze blowing around them, and he’s dressed casually in jeans and a white button-up shirt. His eyes are the same, though — kind and determined._

_“I could stand up here all day with you,” he says softly to her, and his voice is like a whisper over the roar of the traffic and the people below, but she understands perfectly._

_She tilts her head and lifts herself on to her toes, and he ducks his head to meet her lips._

\--

Hermione blinks awake again, back in her bed, under the soft duvet. Her lips tingle from the memory of her dream, and she lifts a finger to them.

They feel more bruised than they did before she went to bed, like she was really making out with a handsome man for hours while she slept, but she knows that is ridiculous.

She ignores the warm sensation between her legs as she gets out of bed. Perhaps she needs to head to the pub tonight and find a good lay.

\--

_They are fighting again, and the air is once again filled with creatures, but these are not aliens. These are robots. And they keep coming and coming._

_She swishes her wand through the air, green sparks flying out the end, taking out the creatures as best she can._

_This time, there is a small circle of people fighting. The blond man is beside her, swinging his shield time and time again. On her other side is a man with an arrow._

_“Steve, watch out!” calls a red-haired woman on the blond man’s other side, and Hermione sees him turn just in time to knock two robots back into three other robots. The five of them go down in a metal heap._

_“There’s too many of them!” someone from somewhere behind Hermione calls out — another man — and her grip on her wand tightens._

_“I’ve got this,” she says — to the man who had spoke, to all of them, she’s not sure — and she steps forward, raising her arm high._

_She opens her mouth to speak …_

\--

And she blinks awake again. Her arm is out of the safety of the covers and raised in front of her, like she was really just warding off a legion of robots.

She puts her arm down and sits up, wiping a hand across her forehead, which feels sweaty from her night asleep.

She peers down at her fingers and a gasp leaves her throat. Black soot and dust is spread across her hand.

She feels something akin to panic well up inside her as she tries to think back to the day before. She was at the Ministry. Dinner alone. Reading before bed.

She had to have touched something, done something …

Something yellow flashes in the corner of her eye. She turns her head. Nothing is there but the broken time turner lying on the table.

She stares at it, and then down at her hand, and thinks about her dream.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hermione,” she says out loud, and she gets out of bed to go wipe off her hand and her face.

\--

_She is in a bedroom she has never seen before. It’s small and plain, with only a minimal amount of furniture. She’s lying in the middle of the bed, dressed only in a thin white sleeping gown that is now pushed well above her waist. Her hands are gripped tightly around the bars of the headboard above her, and her legs are spread as wide as she can get them._

_She can only see the muscles in his back and the curve of his arse from the position she is in, but she knows it’s Steve who is between her thighs. He has two fingers inside her, scissoring her open, and this lips are around her clit._

_A moan escapes from her throat, and she begins to rock her hips up against Steve’s mouth._

_She can feel the warmth spreading through her body, can feel her muscles growing taut, and she clenches her fists harder around the rails of the headboard as she arches her back and scrunches her eyes closed._

_“Please, Steve,” she whispers. Begs really. There is a high-pitched keen to her voice. “Please.”_

_His lips pop off her clit and she almost screams at the loss, but she opens her eyes and tilts her head so she can see him looking at her, amusement and lust and love all visible in his expression._

_“I love you,” he breathes, and she feels all the air in her chest disappear, but then a thumb is on her clit and his fingers are moving again and she can’t answer because she is coming, harder than she’s ever come in her life, and then …_

\--

Hermione’s eyes blink open, and she is sprawled on her own bed, alone. Her knickers are pushed down to her knees and her hands is between her legs, and she knows she is sopping.

She sinks back into her own pillows and closes her eyes and takes a breath, trying to ignore the ache between her legs.

She can still feel the touch of his tongue and his fingers filling her insides and hear the sound of his voice whispering his love, and she feels an ache in her heart, and she realizes she feels empty. Alone.

She sits up, hastily pulling her knickers back up where they belong, and turns her head to look at the time turner beside her.

Part of her wants to grab it and throw it far, far away, but she knows she’s being ridiculous. So she leaves it there and hurries to the bathroom. She’ll be a few minutes late for work, but she needs to finish what dream Steve started.

\--

_It’s just her and Steve. They are in a room, full of floor to ceiling glass windows. Outside, she can see a fog-covered forest with a mountain in the distance._

_They are standing side-by-side, staring out the window. She can feel the tension in the air, the fear._

_“We can’t stay here,” Steve says. “They’ll come for us.”_

_“I’ve lived as a fugitive before,” Hermione says. “I can do it again. I can protect us.”_

_“It’s not just us,” Steve says. “We have to take the others with us. We have to get them out of The Raft. We have to find Nat.”_

_“We will,” Hermione answers, and this time she turns her head to look at Steve. He senses her motion and turns to look at her as well. They face each other, eyes searching the other._

_“We can do this,” she continues. “It won’t be easy. But I’m not going to let them find any of you.”_

_“I trust you,” Steve says._

_“I know.”_

\--

Hermione blinks awake. The sun is peeking through the blinds in her room. She feels calm, determined, hopeful.

She looks over at the time turner lying beside her bed. It’s glowing yellow again.

She gets up and goes to get breakfast.

\--

_They are in the middle of a battlefield — she and Steve. All around them people are fighting. But neither she nor Steve are moving. They are staring across the field._

_The man is huge, larger than any man she has ever seen, and strong. She can see the gauntlet on his hand, can see the sparkle of the different color stones. She knows what is about to happen, and there is nothing she can do._

_The man lifts his fist — the one that is so giant it could squash her like she was a mere bug — and then there is a pause that seems to last indefinitely. And then he snaps his fingers._

_Hermione feels herself cry out — “Nooooo!” — but no noise comes out of her mouth._

_Instead she stares around her as one by one people stop fighting. Weapons drop to the ground. People fall to their knees._

_And then there is dust. So much dust. The air is full of dust, and Hermione can’t see anything but she knows — she_ knows _— that is the dust of people vanished out of existence._

_And then a whisper, right beside her ear. Steve’s voice. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.”_

_“What?” Hermione says, and she feels dust sting her eyes. Nothing makes sense. Nothing feels right._

_“We’re supposed to save them,” Steve says. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.”_

\--

Hermione blinks awake, terror filling her body. She’s panting, crying. Her eyes are stringing from the dust. Beside her, the time turner is glowing again.

She gets out of bed. She feels restless, helpless. Like something she can’t stop is about to happen.

She finds Harry and Ron in the living room. For a moment, she forgets it’s the weekend and they are all home together for once.

“Look at this, Hermione!” Harry says when he sees her. He holds up a newspaper, but it’s not the Prophet.

“Why do you have a Muggle paper?” she asks him.

“It’s big news!” Harry says. “I wanted to read it for myself.”

“Read what?”

“Remember those Muggle stories of superheroes?”

“Yes,” Hermione says slowly, and she hopes to Merlin she’s not blushing, but if she is, Harry and Ron don’t seem to notice.

“Well, that one from long ago?” Harry says. “Captain America? They just found him in the ice. And he’s alive!”

\--

She finds him in a tiny room, sitting in a rocking chair. He is not yet the man she saw in her dreams. In her future. But he will be.

She stands in front of him for a few moments without saying anything. If SHIELD finds her here — heck, if the Ministry finds out she’s here — she will be the one locked away. Interaction between SHIELD and the Ministry is strictly forbidden. At least for now.

“Hello, Steve Rogers,” she says quietly. “Do you know who I am?”

A smile spreads across his face as he takes her in.

“You’re Hermione Granger,” he says. “I think we’re going to save the world together.”

Hermione feels a matching smile cross her own face. “Yes,” she answers. “I think we are.”


End file.
